I've Got it Bad and It's No Good
by Amaterasudaemon
Summary: Ensign Riley Cowell is new on the Enterprise, and so far she has remained out of notice of her superior officers, and she wants to keep it that way. However, she can't help but notice Mr. Spock, and he seems to keep running into her.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Getting a regular sleep schedule while in the middle of space is difficult. Getting a regular sleep schedule in the middle of space when you are an insomniac is impossible. So here I roamed Deck C, during the designated "sleep" time. I laughed darkly to myself as I roamed the hallways dimly lit by soft red lighting. My bed clothes, a sensible pair of shorts and tank top, were slightly chilly due to the AC running on high in the hallway, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. It was better than being cooped up in my cabin, tiny with stale air that reminded me of an airplane.

Back on earth when I would travel from my home state of Alaska to my family's residence in Arizona, I would take three motion sickness pills before I got on the large commercial passenger plane. It was out-of-style to fly nowadays, what with transporters in all major cities, but it had been all I could afford as I traveled on a college student's budget. I had hated it, and I always had taken Dramamine to make sure I would sleep through the flight. However, here on the Enterprise, I had been afraid to ask the ship's surgeon for anything, let alone medicine to help me sleep. I didn't want my condition to go on my permanent record and prevent me from staying on board. I had kept my head down, avoiding attention from my superiors, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Generally, as an engineer, I was on-call a lot of the time. Chief engineer Scott (or Scotty, as he kept insisting I call him) had me working on the engine factors that had been acting up ever since we passed through the DAC 21 nebula. The grueling process of moving grates and checking hardware had left me exhausted for the past two weeks, but I had finally found and fixed the problem (a glitch in the C34 board). As a result, Chief Engineer Scott had not put me on call for tonight. In fact, as we passed through a calm and quiet system, no one was really on call. Only a few people roamed the decks, generally crew members sneaking into each others cabins to have a late night rendezvous. Not that it was any of my business. However, as I walked the corridor, I couldn't help but laugh at the hurried gait of individuals on their way to someone else's cabin.

It was as if it were college again. People running to each other's rooms before the hall monitor could catch them. Nervously, I glanced around the corner, looking for said hall monitor. Unlike college, it wasn't an old lady who would give you a slap on the wrist. This week, it was first officer Spock- a half-human, half-Vulcan who made me incredibly nervous. Not seeing any sign of him, I continued my pacing by turning around at the elevator doors.

To my shock, the elevator hissed open, making me cry out and clutch my suddenly rapid beating heart.

"Excuse me. Are you all right?" A calm, levelheaded voice asked. I gulped and straightened, nodding.

"Yes, sir. I apologize. You startled me." I choked out; my voice sound and quiet and child-like in my ears.

"I can see that. What are you doing out at this time? You should be resting." First officer Spock was tall, probably 6'1", 6'2", and I craned my neck to see his face. In the red light, his pointed ears an upward turned eyebrows give him a slightly Satanic look, and I filed away the information in the back of my head to laugh at later. For now, I sought to answer his question.

I looked down at my bare feet, wondering what I look like. A frisky Yeoman off to some officer's bed?

"Just for a walk, Mr. Spock." I replied, trying to inject some confidence into my voice.

"Are you not tired? Adult humans require 7 to 8 hours of sleep per night, and there is approximately six hours and 58 minutes left until wake-up call. I suggest you return to your cabin and go to sleep." Mr. Spock informed me, standing tall and seemingly filling the hallway. His blue uniform looked purple in the light, and the red hallway seemed to be swallowed up by him. I searched for some logical protest, but there was none. Suddenly, I was struck by a question that erupted from my mouth before I could stop it. I made eye contact and asked,

"How much sleep does a Vulcan need?" Immediately, I blushed and shook my head, looking back down at my feet, embarrassed and shocked I was talking to a superior officer. Mr. Spock raised an eyebrow. Before he could speak to reprimand me, I spoke quickly.

"I'm sorry. I apologize. I'll headed to my cabin right away, sir. You have a good night, sir." I nodded at him and turned and scampered down the hallway, unsure of what had made me ask the first officer of his sleeping habits. I reached my cabin door and rested my head against it. Cold metal chilled my skin, sending goosebumps down my arms and neck. Perhaps, I was getting a fever. I shook my head. _I had better hope not if I want to avoid that doctors visit._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I woke up the next morning with a headache. Not one of blinding pain that couldn't allow me to move, but a throbbing one in the back of my head that was ever present. I attributed it to my sleepless night, but reluctantly I made an appointment with sick bay and went to breakfast.

The din almost prove to be my maker. I sat down at the far end of the chow hall, nursing a cup of water and small bowl of oatmeal. The muttering and talking and yelling rang in my ears, making me wish for a pair of sound canceling headphones. I longed for the smooth jazz of home with Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong gently crooning in my ear.

I finished my cup of water and glanced at my watch- another outdated piece machinery that I was very fond of. It had a black leather wristband with a smallish face. It was worn, and I had replaced the batteries in it many times, but I had grown attached to it. Right now it told me I was going to be late for my shift.

I placed my tray with uneaten oatmeal in the disposal bin. Hopefully no one had noticed the waste of food. I could hear my mother whispering in my ear "breakfast is the most important meal of the day." It was an old adage that she had picked up. Shaking my mother's voice from my head, I quickly made my way down to the engine room, my headache an annoying companion.

I arrived at the engine room, and I adjusted my red shirt over my slacks. Being one of the only woman who worked in engineering had its perks. I didn't need to wear a dress like most of the female crew. I opened the door and was immediately called out by the Chief Engineer.

"Ensign? What are you doing? I gave you today off." Mr. Scott walked up to me, still in the doorway. I froze for a second and slowly said,

"What do you mean you gave me the day off? I was scheduled to work today. I was on call." Mr. Scott shook his head, looking slightly exasperated.

"Ensign Cowell, you're going to tire yourself out! You must rest! Lass, you're a good engineer, but when you're tired, you get sloppy." The words slightly stung, but I shook off the hurt and smiled.

"Mr. Scott, I appreciate the concern. I really do. Right now, I'm all right. Can I just work half day and call it good?" Mr. Scott rolled his eyes but laughed slightly, his hand running through his hair.

"All right, but no more than that!" He shook his finger at me and laughed again. "Never thought I would be fighting a crewman to not work." I laughed with him and walked in when he moved to let me into the engine room. I saluted to him and then walked to my station. I clapped the man there on his back. He turned,

"Ensign Cowell, what are you doing? I'm here for the day." I smiled and laughed,

"I've convinced Mr. Scott to let me work a half day. I am relieving you of your post. Come back after lunch." Ensign Howard smiled; his white teeth flashed, making my heart beat slightly faster.

"Thanks, Ensign Cowell! I won't forget this. My fiancé will appreciate it too!" He stood and patted my back, grabbing his stuff and running out with his communicator already in use. I sat down in the still-warm chair, sighing. I berated my heart for beating so fast when Ensign Howard smiled. I stared at the switchboard for a few seconds, and then began to get to work.

I mostly made sure that the engines were running along, chugging through outerspace happily. Right now all seemed well, until I noticed a little blip in the control room upstairs, meaning that one of the individuals upstairs needed help. I glanced around the fairly empty engine room. I flipped open my communicator,

"Mr. Scott, they need help up in the control room. Should I go?" I waited a moment, before a busy Mr. Scott came in over the my communicator.

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead." I nodded and responded, confirming I heard him, and hit a button, marking my post as busy.

When I arrived to the bridge, and the door opened to show who was in the engine section, I almost groaned out loud and shut the elevator doors. There's sat Officer Jamie – a man who thought it was his duty to try and "bring me out of my shell." Whatever that meant. He glanced over and grinned. His white smile against his olive complexion shined, and his brown eyes glistened mischievously. I sighed and walked over.

I crossed my arms and glared at him.

"I saw someone needed assistance up here." Officer Jamie nodded, smirking and crossing his arms over his red shirt. "Yeah, I heard you would be in the engine room, and I knew you were the expert at fixing fixing blinking lights, so I called you up here." He showed me where the problem was. It was a simple wiring problem that really was something officer Jamie should be able to do, but I didn't fight with him since that's what he would want. I climbed under the controls and open the panel. Dutifully, I got to work. I ignored officer Jamie's attempts for discussion, trying not to smile at his stupid jokes. I methodically worked, twisting and untwisting wires. As I worked I let my mind wander on why I disliked officer Jamie so much. I mean he was good-looking and obviously was interested in me. Perhaps I didn't like the look in his eye when I caught him looking at me. I definitely didn't like his pushiness. He was yet another extrovert who thought it was his duty to try and make me just like him. Well, no sir, that was not Riley Cowell, and she changed for no man.

As I worked on the switchboard, my headache receded into the back of my head, not gone just forgotten. It wasn't until officer Jamie had told me the problem was fixed that I stood up and stumbled that my headache was remembered. The blood rushed to my head, and my vision started to darken. I heard officer Jamie say,

"Ensign, are you okay?" I reached for the panel, to support myself.

"Yeah, yeah. Fine. I just stood up too fast. Anyway, that should do it. The panel is properly fixed." I stood, holding the panel a moment more before I let go and walked by Officer Jamie, who swaggered next to me, stopping me before I could get to the elevator.

"Riley, would you like to get dinner later? Maybe catch a movie in the rec room?" He smiled at me again; his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. I sighed annoyed. However, before I could tell him no, the elevator opened, and someone stepped in.

"Are you going down?" First officer Spock asked. I blanched. I turned to face him. As soon as he saw my face, his eyebrow quirked, no doubt recognizing me from the night before. It took me a quick second before I realized what he said.

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry." I stepped into the elevator before quickly replying to the officers offer. "No, thanks, some other time." The elevator door shut on officer Jamie's disappointed face, leaving myself in a small elevator with Mr. Spock.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It was silent for a moment, and I glanced at my watch. It was almost time for my appointment in sick bay.

"Are you going to the recreation room?" Mr. Spock asked, pulling me from my thoughts. I frowned down at the ground before making eye contact with Mr. Spock.

"no, sir. You don't need to concern yourself with my location. I'm able to direct the elevator myself. Thank you though." I stated respectfully as the door opened… Right at sick bay. My mouth gaped, and I glanced at Mr. Spock.

"How did you kn-" I stuttered has I saw him get off. He didn't have to be at sick bay, did he? I stepped off with him, and he glanced at me. I mustered a smile.

"I promise I'm not following you." He raced an eyebrow, a skill he'd apparently mastered. "I didn't think you were." My weak smile melted into a grimace. So much for my joke. Silently, I walked by Mr. Spock, trying to maintain my distance from him. There was something about Spock that made things seem smaller. Maybe it was his physical stature, but it was something more. It was as if his presence commanded light and space to warp around him, like a reactor in a closed environment. He pulled the attention away from others, and his presence demanded acknowledgment. I respected Mr. Spock, despite my uncomfortableness around him. He's cool, logical demeanor soothed the constant aggravation from the harsh tones of the ship's crew members.

We entered sick bay at the same time. Spock went straight to McCoy's office, leaving me standing by myself in a room with two hospital beds and machinery that was meant to maintain life. I glanced down at my watch to see I was slightly early for my appointment. I slid my ID card through the computer, marking in the ship's log that I was off-duty for now and I was in sick bay. I grimaced at the thought that Mr. Scott might see I was here.

Leave it to him to put me on rest. I checked over my history on the computer quickly. I was still blonde and still had blue eyes last time I checked. I clicked through my history and then sat down in a black plastic chair- the standard kind that made my long ago broken tail bone whisper in protest.

The wait made my head roar in pain. Sitting with nothing to do allowed the headache to parade just behind my eyes. I close them for a moment, and the darkness was blessed relief.

"I would like to observe that perhaps you are feeling tired because you did not get adequate sleep last night. I would recommend trying to sleep a full eight hours tonight." Mr. Spock said as he passed me on his way to the door. I grit my teeth, but a comment still slipped out.

"I didn't know you had become a doctor, Mr. Spock." Bitterness was laced through the comment.

"It was merely a suggestion." Spock stated before walking out the door. I sighed; my head pounding. I hadn't meant to sass the man. Before I could regret it further, a voice cut through my thoughts.

"Ms. Cowell? You're next."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hey! This chapter is a One Shot with my OC and Spock. It is entirely out of place and way into the future, but I couldn't help but write this because I was missing my romance in the last three chapters. Hopefully you appreciate my romantic side, and my OOC Spock. Please enjoy!

A Riveting Conversation

"Mr. Spock, what is your view on the ontaris infraction? Do you think it was justified or do you think the rebels deserved the punishment they received?" I turned away from the window I had been staring out of. The view of the rose galaxy had been breathtaking. Swirling reds and oranges curled in a tight spiral, glittering with stars and planets had been the most gorgeous sight since I had first arrived on this ship. It had distracted me to the point that I had forgotten the man who had shown it to me. Mr. Spock considered the question. I went and sat down on the couch that occupied the viewing room. We had been lucky so far to not have any crew members awkwardly shutting the door, caught in the act of looking for a place to make out. I gestured for him to sit on the couch next to me, and he stood for a moment longer before joining me. I was silent, and he finally answered.

"The Ontarian rebels had been fighting for food and water for their citizens, so perhaps they were justified in that way. However, they had broken the law set forth by the federation in doing so. If they had wanted to prove a point, they would have accepted the punishment." I shifted, crossing my legs. I settled my chin onto the heel of my hand, pressing my elbow into my thigh. I always loved getting Spock's logical and straightforward opinion. His Vulcan side that was both perceiving and judgmental with no filter lead to interesting conversations that allowed me to debate with him.

"Even if the punishment is death? What if they thought the punishment too steep? How would they combat that?" I asked, reading the lines and curves of his face. He responded, unconcerned with his mind decidedly made up.

"They should have gone through the proper channels. If they were unsatisfied with the result, they could have brought it to a higher power." I smiled, and his eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you amused? Have I said something humorous?" I shook my head, unable to bring up this train of thought.

"Nothing, Spock. You weren't being humorous. I just found a cruel irony in your statement." Before he could continue his thought, I asked, "what is the usual size of a Vulcan family unit?"

Spock's face slid into his usual blank slate, a tell that I knew I had caught him off guard. He sat back in the couch, probably settling in knowing that I would be able to ask many questions along this train of thought. He glanced at me, and his eyebrow quirked. Inside, my heart began to beat a little faster, knowing that he was about to test me. Of course, it wasn't something like science or art. It was more of an evaluation of my reasoning skills. Probably to see wether or not I was competent enough to hang out with. Not that he would ever admit to hanging out with anybody. Let alone a lowly Ensign like me.

"What do you think?" He asked, his voice revealing none of his inner dialogue.

"Probably small. I'm assuming that Vulcans reproduce the same as humans, correct?" I glanced at his face to try and catch a hint of emotion since vulcans were particularly sensitive about the topic of mating. He nodded, and I could've sworn his cheeks were a bit more yellow than before. I decided to continue along this course of conversation.

"Does that mean that Vulcan females have menstrual cycles?" Spock crossed his arms and placed his ankle on his opposite knee. A common body language sign that meant that he was uncomfortable.

"Yes, they do. However, most females choose not to partake in that bodily function. Most couples generally get vitro fertilization." Spock answered.

"Do the women carry the babies in their uterus? What is the gestation period?" Spock cleared his throat and rubbed his eye, and my inner demon cackled with joy because Spock hadn't reacted this emotionally to any other questions before.

"Most women carry their children. A Vulcan's gestation period is approximately 7 months." He stood up, "I believe I should get going. Thank you for the most... interesting conversation, Ensign Cowell. I will contact you so that we can meet another time." I hurried and stood up as he began to walk out. Immediately, I began to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to run you off. Do you have to go?" He stopped and shifted his body slightly away from the door, meaning that I had a little time left with him.

"Sorry for what? We were having a discussion. I should go, however. My shift on the bridge starts in an hour." I shook my head, knowing there was no way I could convince him that the conversation was uncomfortable for him so that I needed to apologize. I could try and convince him to stay a little longer. A part of me, the prideful and indignant part, wanted me to just say good-bye and he done with him. However, the weak, simpering part craved for him to be near because like the fool I am, I had fallen in love with Mr. Spock.

I glanced at him taking in his black hair almost blue in this dim light, his ears as pointed as ever, and his hazel eyes that seemed to hold all the intelligence in the universe.

"An hour? Why would you need to leave that early?" He turned to me fully, a win on my part.

"I had a few things to take care of. Why? Do you have more questions?" At the mention of more questions, his body shifted towards the door once more. I laughed slightly,

"Yes, I do. However, these are aimed at the Vulcan's brain rather than their prenatal aspects. I would very much appreciate some more information on the species that stands before me." I smiled at him sweetly, and he blinked. _He blinked!_ He seemed to take a moment, clearing the few emotions he had on his face.

"I can stay for another 30 minutes, and then I must go." I turned away and sat on the couch, hiding the wide smile on my face that I couldn't contain.

"How many synapses are there in the Vulcan brain?" I asked from the couch as Spock stayed standing. He stood straight, arms at his side, relaxed but looking uncomfortable to the un-trained eye.

"Over 6 quintillion." He said simply. I gasped.

"Really?! Wow! That's a couple billion more than a human! No wonder Vulcans are so smart!" Spock stood a little straighter, his chest slightly rising.

"Yes, that could attribute to the Vulcans intelligence." I laughed slightly, his pride in the species that made up half his DNA was absolutely adorable.

"How many nerve endings does a vulcan have?" I continued along the lines of the neurological system. Spock thought for a moment before saying,

"Approximately 900 billion." I sat back in my chair, slightly astonished at this new information when a thought came to me.

"Does that mean..." I hesitated, the rest of the question on my tongue.

"Yes, Ms. Cowell?" Spock asked, cocking his head slightly as if confused I was hesitating.

"Does that mean you feel more than humans do?" I grabbed his hand. "Like this? Does it make you uncomfortable because of the closeness or the actual sensation?" He stared at me, his face a blank mask.

"Vulcans do not feel uncomfortable. That is a human emotion." I huffed, slightly annoyed at the phrase 'that is a human emotion.' I had heard it way too many times before. I stood up, almost chest to chest with him, his hand still in mine.

"I didn't ask if Vulcans felt uncomfortable. I asked if you felt uncomfortable." I looked him in his green eyes, staring into my own. He hid so much behind them that was impossible to read. He had a barrier up, and there was only so much body language could tell me. "How does it feel when I hold your hand?" I asked, softer than a whisper. I knew he would hear with his enhanced hearing.

"Warm." He replied quickly, his hand momentarily squeezing mine before he let go and turned. "I must go-"

"What is it like to not touch anybody? Trapped in the prison of your emotionless customs?" He turned, and I caught a flicker of something behind his eyes. I ran to him and threw my arms around his neck. In the few moments I knew I had before he threw me off, I kissed Science Officer Spock, half-Vulcan and half-human. I tried to convey the depth and breadth of my feelings that burned within me: the red flame that burned me body and soul and had kept me up countless nights, the orange flame that burned constant fueled by his intelligence and wit, the cool blue flame that knew he would never love me back, and the white hot coals that burned me from the core every time I thought of this man. My feelings were a nebula of ever shifting stars that spun around the knowledge that this was going to end badly, and I was going to be consumed by the darkness of spurned love, but right now, in this exact moment, I knew that there was no way that I could stop this force that pulled me so strongly to him. So I kissed him.

Slowly, I came back to the ground and realized I was still here. My lips pressed against his. I drew back and saw something I couldn't believe. In his eyes, a fire had been lit, a small ember that backlit his eyes making them shine a bright green like the aurora in the night sky. I slowly brought my arms down from around his neck and down his chest.

We stood there for long moments, just looking into each other's eyes, trying to figure out and make sense of the energy that had passed between us. Mr. Spock finally spoke, in a tone than I had ever thought he was capable of.

"I would like to pursue a relationship with you, Ensi- Riley. I had been considering this possibility earlier, and this occurrence makes the chances of a successful match more likely." A shiver ran through my body as he said my first name for the first time.

"I would love that, Mr. Spock." I frowned at him, realizing I didn't even know his first name. "What is your first-"

"It's impossible to pronounce for humans." He interrupted me for the first time. I nodded and stepped away from him. A sudden chill swept my body as I moved away from him. "I will be in contact with you. I have found this visit most agreeable. Now, I must leave."

He turned from me, but before he left me, he glanced back a moment, a hint of a smile in his eyes that said more than any words he could speak.


End file.
